


Predators

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, Wendigo, Wendigo!Hannibal - Freeform, Werewolf, Werewolf!Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 09:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3891157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a hunt for a very rude human, Hannibal - a wendigo - comes across another predator in the woods. But the werewolf, Will, is more interesting than a threat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Predators

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno if I will continue this, depends on the reception I guess. I'm not the best writer but if y'all like it I'll continue it.

There was another predator in these woods, Hannibal realized as the scent carried through the wind and made its way into the Bentley he was driving. He had been stalking his own prey when he smelled it, it was not an animal, but a monster like him. Another wendigo perhaps, but the scent smelled of anger, bloodlust, something much more savage than his own. It was rare enough to find another wendigo in this world, but another inhuman beast like him? He’s never come across one that was alive.

 

He had quickly forgotten about the rude salesman he was following down the road in his Bentley and instead parked his car on the shoulder of the highway and stepped out into the woods, following the scent of another beast.

 

Curiosity took hold on Hannibal, a deep desire to see what other predator was. The scent got stronger as he neared whatever it could be. There was a sweet heat in the smell now, and he followed it for another mile before he saw what it was - a beautiful and muscular werewolf circling, growling, and clawing at a tree. There was a bloody carcass of a cow strung up high in the tree, the beast couldn’t climb it and had been, for the most part of the night, trying to knock the tree down with its own huge claws.

 

Hannibal smiled as he watched the different beast from the high ground, wondering why the werewolf hadn’t noticed him yet as Hannibal had noticed him from miles away. He figured that the wolf must have a hyperfocus on the actual bloody meat than some other predator in the area - and it must be that whoever the werewolf is, he never had another predator challenge him. He was a massive and slender being, and even Hannibal would be a fool to get in the way of the dead cow remains that was strung up in the tree.

 

He had only heard stories about werewolves, growing up with fellow family of wendigos until they slowly but surely passed away - leaving him the only one to survive. He wondered if this werewolf had the same fate, heard stories of a fabled wendigo, only to grow up alone with only his other self to keep him company.

 

The werewolf, circling and clawing the tree, had entertained Hannibal for most of the night, the desire to see the wolf transform back into a human had kept him there. He had never seen something like that - his own wendigo self is the same size and shape of his human form. To see this hulking beast transform into the size of a human, Hannibal was more than curious.

 

The full moon began to set, and the first colors of the sun began to spread amongst the blackness of the night. As the moon began to sink below the horizon, the werewolf grew more and more agitated. Its final bursts of anger towards the tree turned into agonizing howls of pain and then into a human’s scream as the muscle began to constrict and squeeze itself back into the form of a furless body.

 

Hannibal saw then, that the werewolf was indeed a man, pale with curly brown hair, and with a slender but muscular shape to his build - just like the werewolf had. He was absolutely enthralled with the man’s beauty, his screams of pain that quickly receded into unconsciousness as the man slumped down on the ground - fully naked. It was safe to approach the werewolf now, and Hannibal made his way down the hill to examine the man up close.

 

There was dirt all over his skin, tree bark embedded into his hand and fingers - he’ll be pulling out splinters for days. The scent of the wolf still lingered, but there was no longer the sense of hunger, anger, and bloodlust. It was a delicious woodsy scent, the mixture of the woods and the sweet heat of the man.

 

Hannibal couldn’t just leave the man here, to wake up and return back to his average joe life until the next full moon, no. He had to know this man’s name, his history, his everything - for Hannibal had never came across another inhuman like himself, not for the longest of time. With this werewolf, Hannibal didn’t have to be alone in his monstrosity. He could finally have someone who understands him, completely.

 

Full of admiration for the werewolf, Hannibal picks up the man and slings him in a fireman’s carry as he makes the journey back to his Bentley.

 

After cleaning and dressing the unconscious man, he turns out the light to his guest bedroom and makes his way down to make lunch. His supply is much too low to make anything grand for the werewolf, he’ll have to make another trip out to stalk his prey, so he settles on a mixture of both animal and human for the wolf. A seemingly appropriate meal for the man who shares both humanity and animal.

 

Hannibal had never connected himself to either of the two, he shapeshifted just like the werewolf, but to him it was never one half or the other. He was a wendigo, no matter what form he took. He would always need human flesh to survive, and would always view humans as prey - and not who he is. But the werewolf, his perspective could be much more different, he could only shapeshift against his will into a creature that was separated from his mind. Or at least, that was what he was told as a child. Perhaps, he wondered to himself, if the werewolf was more like him than he presumes.

 

There was a loud thump from upstairs, and Hannibal turned the heat down on the simmering food and made his way up the stairs. An exhilaration took over Hannibal was the sounds continued - his werewolf was awake, and he could not wait to see the man fully cognitive.

 

Hannibal slowly opened up the door to the guest bedroom, and found the man curled up in a corner - frightened. He steps in, softly, and turns on the light - the man’s head shoots up and stares at him as if he were prey instead of a predator. “You’re awake, good morning.”

 

He then steps forward and stares down at the man, waiting for him to say something. Their eyes meet, but only briefly before the man suddenly looks away, as if the eye contact burned him, “Where am I?” He asks, he touches the soft silk pajamas that Hannibal had given to him, his brows furrowed in confusion.

 

“I found you in the woods, you were unconscious and naked. I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty to redress you.” He paused for a moment as he let the words sink in, “This is my home, I’d rather you rest and recuperate here, given your circumstances.”

 

The man looks up, his eyes focused on Hannibal’s lips instead of his eyes, and Hannibal can’t help but feel even more curious about the man, “my circumstances?”

 

Hannibal adjusts his suit, “given that you are a werewolf, I don’t believe cops and a stay at the hospital would be to your benefit.”

 

His eyes widened when Hannibal spoke so casually of his infliction, “you saw?” His voice was quiet, scared. Nothing like the rampaging beast that tried to cut a tree in half with its claws.

 

“I did, perhaps you’d like to discuss this over some food? I imagine you’d be quite hungry.” Hannibal stepped forward and extended his hand towards the man. He stared at it briefly before taking it, and let Hannibal help him up and guide him out of the room.

 

“What is your name?” Hannibal asked as they stepped down the stairs.

 

The man’s focus was more on his surrounding than on Hannibal, but he simply replied, “Will.”

 

Downstairs was vast and magnificent. Paintings and decor that probably cost more than Will’s house, and kept following his host down into a beautiful dining room. “What’s your name?” Will asks as Hannibal motions for him to take a seat.

 

“My name is Doctor Hannibal Lecter,” he replies and grabs the bottle of wine that sat on the table, “Do you prefer cabernet sauvignon or sauvignon blanc?”

 

Will’s brows furrow up again, “red, red is fine. Thank you,” his voice is forced and distracted, and Hannibal can’t help but feel that the man is uncomfortable that he knows Will’s secret but Will doesn’t know anything about Hannibal.

 

He pours Will the wine and says, “you are uncomfortable that I know your secret and yet don’t know anything about me.”

 

Will nods, “you know that I’m a werewolf and instead of running for the hills, you take me to your home and feed me.” His facial expression seems to tick and he bites his lips as he gathers all the information and lets his empathy guide him, “I can only guess that you’re either one yourself, a hunter, or something else.”

 

“Something else,” Hannibal responds simply and sets the bottle of wine down, and before Will can inquire further about who he is, Hannibal quickly states, “excuse me, I must check on the lamb.”

 

He leaves Will in silence, alone in the dining room, as he tends to the mixture of lamb and human flesh that cooks sweetly in the oven. Hannibal brings it out and lets the meat rest as he finishes the other touches to his more simple meal.

 

There are some things that Hannibal must keep secret, if he wants Will to be by his side, then he mustn’t spill all of his secrets to the werewolf now. After all, he had found the werewolf chasing after the remains of a butchered cow - which he can only presume that Will purchased for cheap at a butcher shop and then strung it up high so that the beast inside of him had plenty of time to waste getting it down rather than focusing on other innocent creatures. The man, he can gather from this, is someone who doesn’t wish harm against humans and only re-enforces Hannibal’s presumptions that the werewolf is indeed two separate beasts sharing one body.

 

Still, this doesn’t shake Hannibal from wanting to pursue Will further, as he is the only inhuman creature Hannibal knows of and can be the only person to learn of his secret when it is time. He smiles as he gathers up the finished meal and strides back into the dining room.

 

He sets down the tray in the middle of the two seats and smiles up at Will, “you are curious about me, Will.”

 

Hannibal cuts a piece of the meat and delicately places it on Will’s plate, then does the same for his and sits down, but all of his attention is on Will instead of his food, waiting for his response.

 

“I’m curious to what you want with me, and what you are, yes.”

 

Hannibal starts in on his meal, raises a fork and looks deep into Will’s eyes that won’t look up and meet his, “I’m a shapeshifter, like you. And all I want with you is your recovery and your company. That is all.” He takes a bite of the meat and chews.

 

“What animal do you change into?” Will then takes a fork to his own food, which Hannibal doesn’t fail to notice that he is precautious about the food being drugged or poisoned.

 

“Not so much an animal, but simply just another form of myself.”

 

Will looks up at him then, their eyes finally meeting and Hannibal feels the desire and the need to always have those eyes on him - they are beautiful as they finally focus on him, “then it must be an herbivore,” Will says simply, “if you can see that thing as simply another form of yourself.”

 

“It is a carnivore, like myself.” Hannibal replies calmly. Will’s attention then moves back towards the food, their eye-contact breaking. Hannibal needs him to look at him again, to see those beautiful green eyes seeing him for who he really is, “Tell me, Will, do you remember last night?”

 

Will wraps his lips around the fork and chews softly before answering, his voice wavering: “every second.”

 

“I was curious if you would ever notice that there was another predator in your midst, I understand that werewolves can be quite territorial.”

 

Will frowns at that, “it noticed.” He puts emphasis on ‘it’ and continues, “if it didn’t notice you, I can only assume that it didn’t see you as a threat.” Will then motions towards the meal, “I suppose it was right.”

 

“You speak of your other half as if he is not a part of you, Will.” Hannibal takes a sip of his wine and looks at Will, “is it because he isn’t, or you don’t wish him to be?”

 

His guest’s jaw tenses and the werwolf finally sets his gaze back onto Hannibal’s. And Hannibal can see the werewolf’s anger and fury trying to claw its way out of Will’s more passive human exterior. He already got his answer from Will’s expression, and didn’t believe the lie that came out of Will’s mouth next, “it’s an animal, and it will never be a part of me.”

 

Hannibal smiles at that, and doesn’t feel the need to push Will any further about who he is or isn’t. “How do you like the lamb?”

 

Will hums around the forkful of food in his mouth and says, “it’s delicious, thank you.” He sets his fork down and takes a sip of wine. “Are you a chef?”

 

“I am a psychiatrist. Cooking is a much loved hobby of mine, but I do not do it professionally.” Hannibal’s full attention is on Will now, and not the meal that sits before him. “And what is your occupation, Will?”

 

“I’m an FBI Special Agent, right now I work at the training academy. I teach trainees on profiling serial killers.”

 

The werewolf’s  words surprised Hannibal, he didn’t assume this man to be in the FBI - not with who he is and what he is capable of. And there was no doubt that Will had to have come across Hannibal's own work with his time in the FBI. He was not at liberty to share that information just yet, only when Will was ready. “You work with the FBI, are you not scared to work so closely to the authorities that are capable of killing you if they ever found out who you were?” 

 

Will smirks at that, “I’m not going to let something like that ruin what I wanted to do with my life.” He starts to swirl the wine around, his attention completely on the red liquid, “my father let it ruin his. He became a violent drunk towards the end.”

 

“Then you were not made into a werewolf, but born?” Hannibal inquired.

 

“Yes,” Will replied simply and hesitated for a moment before asking, “and what about you? Born? Or made?”

 

He has never told anyone about this, his blood pumping faster with the fact that he can begin to share something that has never been told, “I came from a very large and vast line of wendigos. I am the only one left, they have all passed a long time ago.”

 

Will looks at him with deep sympathy, “We are both alone then.”

 

Hannibal meets Will’s eyes, “We don’t have to be. Not anymore,” he says. The desire to be seen completely and fully by the werewolf drives him, and Hannibal softly touches Will’s hands. “Your secrets are safe with me, Will.”

 

He almost flinches when Hannibal’s hands touch his own, but there was something that made him stay there, and something more that moved his own hands to wrap around Hannibal’s. “And yours with me.” He could feel his heart beat faster, the exhilaration that someone else knows his secrets and aren’t scared or ashamed of him - it made Will want to squeeze Hannibal’s hands harder and never let go.


End file.
